


Patient Words

by hawkeing_eta



Category: Persona 2
Genre: Arguing, Communication Issues, M/M, Nonverbal Communication, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 06:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20326360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkeing_eta/pseuds/hawkeing_eta
Summary: The words flowed into one another in a rather intuitive way that his inexperienced hands could follow, even when he tripped on his own hesitancy. They simply don’t have time for him to hesitate anymore.





	Patient Words

**Author's Note:**

> A request with the following conditions:  
\- Tatsuya has selective mutism and occasionally signs  
-Jun learns sign language

As Jun looked to the others, a small voice deep inside of him said it was a lie. Their smiling and laughing faces were just another fabrication of a reality he longed for, made real to keep him complacent. He had memories, ones he that he believed are genuine and that he trusted in with no doubt, of Maya’s smile. It was always so bright; no being, no matter how powerful or desperate, could ever hope to replicate the feeling that resonated in his chest that that sunny smile left in Jun’s heart. It was always so warm.

Lisa and Eikichi continued their ongoing and non-consequential argument as Maya laughed at their side. Jun watched from across the street as through a glass wall separated them. It was different this time, however. At least, he wanted it to be. If he were to reach out, it wouldn’t be that familiar grief he had grown to know or the awful loneliness that had settled too heavily on his heart. Jun was still adjusting. Lisa fought off a laugh, desperately trying to keep her scowl at Eikichi’s flamboyant antics. Jun wanted to reach out past that glass. It was a hard feeling to communicate.

Beside him, Tatsuya let slip a put upon sigh. A seed of worry sprouted in Jun’s gut. Perhaps he was being a little selfish, but he always found himself gravitating toward Tatsuya whether he intended it or not. Jun looked down and watched that old lighter flick open by deft fingers. It said enough and that worry dissipated. Jun was suddenly all too aware of the weight of the watch on his own wrist.

Jun wondered what the threads of their friendship looked like. What was left must have been frayed, he’d imagine. The lighter snapped shut and Tatsuya’s fingers wrapped tight around it. Remnants must have remained. He could tie them back together with hard work.

When Jun finally looked away from the lighter, Tatsuya looked out across the crosswalk to what was left of the police department. Jun didn’t want to think about it. He focused on that crease in Tatsuya’s brow, and how heavy it rested on his stern face. Jun could see a wall coming up. A voice called out Tatsuya’s name and they both looked out and see that familiar face from when they were children.

Katsuya stumbled over debris that littered the street as he rushed over. He looked frazzled, like he was at the end of a rope while still trying to hold himself together and presentable. It would have been admirable if not for Tatsuya’s immediate recoil into himself. It was subtle, and Jun doubted Katsuya saw it. The wall had shot up.

They were just trying to pass through, deciding to take a detour through the district for the others to restock supplies before attempting to scour the temple in Kounan.

“What on Earth are you doing out here?” Katsuya sounded exasperated when he finally reached them. Tatsuya pointedly kept his eyes away from his brother, that crease in his brow deepening. Either Katsuya didn’t notice or ignored it. Jun wearily glanced to Tatsuya, worried over either option. He looked to Katsuya.

“We were just passing through,” Jun tried to offer. It may not have been his place to speak for Tatsuya, but there was no move of protest at his side. “We’ll be on our way soon.”

Katsuya sighed.

“The city isn’t safe. Not with those people running around in the streets and wreaking havoc in that temple,” Katsuya said with a twinge of frustrated disbelief. He collected himself and Katsuya looked back to his brother with a hard look, eyes sharp behind those thin red sunglasses. “You need to go home, Tatsuya. I can’t keep this place secure on my own without backup, and they’re not going to be able to get here any time soon.”

Tatsuya bristled a little more. “No.” His voice was small but firm. Katsuya’s features hardened.

“Tatsuya. All of your friends need to go home, and so do you.” Tatsuya did not move. Katsuya took a deep breath. “This isn’t a game. People are getting hurt out on the streets and my hands are tied. I don’t need to be worrying about you on top of everything else.” Tatsuya shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. Jun awkwardly held his breath as he fought off fidgeting. He did not want to leave Tatsuya’s side, but he was clearly not apart of the conversation any longer. “For once, you need to listen to me. Go home.”

It was tangible when something snapped. Tatsuya finally looked up to meet Katsuya’s eyes head on. His hands ripped from his pockets and as he made quick, sharp hand gestures, pointed from agitation. Katsuya watched unfazed. If anything, he seemed to take offense to the sharp look in Tatsuya’s eyes and the accusatory tone of his hands. Jun stared. He couldn’t understand, but he could feel the hot frustration in his silent words.

Katsuya responded in kind. “Why do you have to argue with me about this?” His hands flew through the motions fluidly and pointed in their rush, seamlessly fitting to his words as though it was the natural progression of their conversation. Tatsuya only paused briefly to listen before quickly interrupting with solid jabs Jun hadn’t a hope of understanding.

Whatever point Tatsuya made with now near shaking hands, Katsuya quickly cut off.

“I don’t have time for this.”

Tatsuya glared with a quiet heat in his eyes. He responded with something quick and pointed that ended in a rude gesture. Katsuya looked appalled, but before he could get another word or reprimand in, Tatsuya stormed off toward Maya and the others. As he watched him leave, Jun hesitated. Tatsuya’s back was stiff, his shoulders hunched, and Jun realized he still hadn’t found his footing yet. It was still too fresh and Jun didn’t know what to do. He sighed softly and looked to Katsuya. The man watched the way the others welcomed his little brother into their small circle, how Maya sympathetically smiled at him and patted his shoulder. Jun watched the way the frustrated concern weighed on the man’s brow.

With a short, curt sigh, Katsuya looked away. Jun remembered the days when Katsuya would leave his little brother alone at the shrine. He didn’t seem to have changed much.

“I didn’t know you knew sign language,” Jun said, turning to head back to the others. They didn’t have much time to waste, and a part of Jun wanted to spend some of it trying to reconnect. Katsuya rubbed at his furrowed brow, agitation pulling his posture taunt.

“He’s never been one for words,” Katsuya sighed. When he looked back out across the intersection, his face softened. A look of regret pulled at his mouth as he frowned; Jun could take something that resembled comfort knowing the man was capable of recognizing when he had overstepped. Jun did not expect an apology, however. “After an incident at the shrine it grew worse to the point he almost never said a word to anyone. Honestly, we thought he just didn’t have anything to say anymore.”

The days at the shrine, before fate decided to interrupt, Jun remembered very fondly. He remembered how quiet Tatsuya had been, but he remembered how bright his smile was more. It was all they needed.

Jun looked over to the others himself.

“But he did, didn’t he.” He left the accusation hanging in the air.

Katsuya made a frustrated noise. “Yes.”

Jun kept staring Tatsuya’s way. His face had softened, close to that sweet smile Jun remembered from when they were children, but something hollow still haunted it. Lisa butted into his personal space and Maya laughed as Tatsuya fought down the growing embarrassment of the attention. Jun fondly smiled.

Katsuya held himself tall as he regained himself.

“Please tell your friends to get out of Kounan and to get home. I say this out of concern for your safety,” he said with an authoritative sternness. His eyes showed the genuine worry, and Jun noted how similar it was to Tatsuya.

“We’ll be leaving soon,” Jun offered politely. “I’m sorry for the trouble.”

Jun stepped away and caught how Eikichi brightened and waved him on encouragingly. The others turn and smile his way as well. Jun met the way Tatsuya’s own small one started to shine with genuine contentment. Jun recalled how fluent both of the brothers were.

They decide to take the long way to Taurus Temple.

  


Time never seemed to be on their side. Even now, he could feel the steady ticking of a clock running out, but he gave it little mind. As Jun sat alone at the empty internet cafe, he instead remembered what Tatsuya had managed to say despite the words that had clearly wanted to tangle in his throat. It had been a struggle, but one Tatsuya had wanted to make. Jun did not want to waste the precious opportunity that had been given to him.

So Jun decided, as he scrolled through websites with books open in his lap, that he would sleep later. If later never came, then it wouldn’t matter.

As he leafed through a textbook, he mimicked the hand motions that it described. Jun knew is hands were still too stiff, too slow and stumbling, but he looked away from the pages and the computer screen and attempted to commit it to memory. He wanted now to matter. He tried again, and again, until slowly it didn’t feel so awkward, until it smoothed out to something resembling a fluid motion. There was routine to the motions, he found. They flowed into one another in a rather intuitive way that his inexperienced hands could follow, even when he tripped on his own hesitancy. They simply don’t have time for him to hesitate anymore.

Only a few days time had passed. There was one last temple to scour and one more accursed skull to reclaim. Jun’s stomach turned at the thought as he swallowed it down. Tatsuya had grown more jagged the closer they had gotten to it, and Jun knew he was nervous. After what the other temples had brought and what the others’ Shadows had exposed and dredged up, Jun understood the hesitancy. No one had left yet, though. Tatsuya was still a pillar of strength for the others even after seeing the worst of what they had hid.

Jun slowly closed the textbook and quietly logged off of the computer. He sat silently in the chair and stared down at his thin hands. A knot in his chest hardened remembering the strings that had choked him, but his eyes caught on the faint gleam of silver. Jun tugged at his sleeve to look at the wristwatch. It ticks a steady rhythm and he still found it so odd. After all those silent years, it was a small blessing. He reverently touched the smooth face.

There was a tender open heart waiting for him. Jun thought of all the kindness he had been shown and offered, and he hoped he could at least begin to repay it. This was just a first step on a long road.

  


Tatsuya was quiet. It was much heavier than his usual silence and left a solemn taste of discontent in everyone’s mouths. Jun understood with an aching heart. He hoped Tatsuya did as well.

It had been easier the past few days to be around Tatsuya. Jun had felt less like he was hovering, but instead belonged at Tatsuya’s side. Relief had softened his usually stern face when Jun would catch the way Tatsuya looked at him. So as they left Leo Temple behind them, past the rubble of the remnants of Aoba Park, Jun did not feel so hindered to reach out and gently hold Tatsuya’s arm.

“Tatsuya,” Jun said quietly just for him but firm enough to catch his attention. Tatsuya inclined his head toward Jun but did not meet his eye. Jun wasn’t bothered. The others lingered behind them, Maya perhaps suggesting to give Tatsuya some space and time. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

That crease in Tatsuya’s brow deepened. Jun could already see the words starting to trap in his mouth, but he knew it wouldn’t be a problem. Jun offered a small smile Tatsuya did not see.

Aoba had been all but abandoned. There were still stragglers that wandered the streets, but the disconnect was eerie between their happy or indifferent arrogance and the rubble. Jun led Tatsuya to a bench down the empty street, pointedly assuring it faced away from the nearby temple. As they sat, the city looked almost normal. Jun found it didn’t help ease his heart. Tatsuya sat heavily next to him, closer than he needed to be. Jun took an easy breath.

Metal clacked together faintly. Jun looked down to Tatsuya’s hands as they fumbled with his lighter. If he looked hard enough, they trembled despite the rigid way Tatsuya’s fingers cling to it. Jun fought off the urge to try to still them himself. Instead, Jun shifted on the bench just enough to face Tatsuya. Their thighs pressed together.

“Tatsuya.”

Hands stilled as the lighter flicked closed. Tatsuya didn’t look up. Jun took one more steadying breath, and waited. When it became apparent he was not going to continue yet, Tatsuya finally turned his head. Jun saw how tired those warm eyes looked, but it did not falter his resolve. There was no offered smile, but Jun let himself open up with an open heart.

He raised his hands from his lap and hesitated only once as he sorted how to properly express the grateful sentiment he wanted to convey.

Thank you. For being honest, Jun said with stiff hands and slow, deliberate motions. Tatsuya stared. His eyes flitted between Jun’s thin hands and his dark eyes, and Jun didn’t feel nearly as nervous as he thought he would. Tatsuya carefully slipped his lighter back into his pocket. He smiled. It was small, barely there, but it felt like a rush of relief. Jun knew exactly how to find it.

I meant it, Tatsuya finally answered, hands much more confident but just as deliberate. Jun appreciated it, but he smiled at those tired eyes that looked at him with a desire to keep fighting. That fire was small. An ember flickering against the encroaching darkness, but Jun knew it would spark again. Not yet, but soon. As they sit on a bench by an abandoned street, pressed together, they could take as long as they needed to simply breathe. It wasn’t so daunting.

Jun’s hands hesitated once again, but only out of a lack of knowledge. Tatsuya kept that small smile, just as patient as ever.

I believe you, Jun said.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: [@hawkeing_eta](https://twitter.com/hawkeing_eta)


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